Freedom
by rivaling
Summary: Alfred is kidnapped during a raid by Captain Kirkland and his crew, and now he's forced to travel with them for four, long, months. But during that time, Alfred will learn more about that pitiful captain, and even fall in love —•x x•— England ო America
1. Chapter 1

Again, Alfred thought, as he desperately tried to contain the urge to roll his eyes.

Again, he was standing there, listening to his father, the governor, lecture him about leaving the premises. He wasn't royalty, he thought, so why is it important he must act like he is? He was just _a son of the governor_. Did people really care about his political views? Did people really care about what he did? Did people really care about how he woke up, what he ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and what he did during his free time? With how many times he sees his father shake his head in disappointment, he thinks they do. Or maybe, perhaps, it was just his father who really cared.

Either way, he didn't really matter to him.

"You're giving me a bad image," his father said as he rubbed his temples exhaustedly. "It is good that you are getting a public image, but this… Not to mention the way you draw attention to yourself. It's embarrassing."

No longer resisting the urge to do so, America rolled his eyes silently, and mouthed every word his father said in his next sentence:

"As my son, you are supposed to behave like a good boy. Your image reflects my own. I don't want you to—"

"Do manual labor, hang around town and stuff like that. I know I know," Alfred interrupted, ignoring the glare sent from his father. In the back of his mind, we wondered why his father couldn't be more like Uncle Sam. Now _that guy_ was a good guy. "Alright, I'll stay within the premises tomorrow." Behind his back, he crossed his fingers, and managed to contain a creeping smile on his face. "I promise."

But the next day, to no one's surprise, Alfred was out and about in the bustling town with the sun's beam on his face as it always seemed to do. He was carrying hefty wooden crates along with a shopkeeper assistant, careful not to bump anyone who happened to walk by. It was fairly difficult, as the town was small but the population was large.

Being three steps ahead of Alfred, the shopkeeper assistant called out to him, his voice strained, "That isn't too heavy for you, is it boy?"

On instinct, Alfred answered, "Heh, of course not!" But in all honesty, it was straining his arms, he could hardly see above the crate, and his legs wobbled with every slow step he took. However, he couldn't bear giving up. That's just how he is, he thinks to himself conceitedly. He's just too stubborn to give up, and he's proud of that fact. After all, he wasn't Alfred F. Jones without sticking his noses into other's business.

Not long after, much to his relief, they dropped the crates in a dark and dusty cellar under the shopkeeper's shop, and they both wiped the sweat from their brows. Alfred looked up at the man and grinned, "Is that all, Paul? Do you have anything else I can help out with?"

Paul dismissed him, "No, that's all today Alfred." He took a breath and wiped his gleaming forehead again, "Thanks a lot, boy. Though I didn't ask for your help, you're incredibly ready to lend a hand! Oh, here." The man dug in his pockets leisurely before handing out a fist to Alfred, "For helping out today." Alfred put his hand out and felt multiple coins in his palm.

Outside, Alfred deeply breathed in fresh air through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth, feeling accomplished. He looked at his hand and counted the amount of money he's gotten with a frown. "Seriously? Twelve pieces? That's it?" He put the money in his pants pocket and walked down the road. After passing multiple shops and flirting with some girls who just so happened to walk by, Alfred decides to take a shortcut down an alleyway to the local pub. _'Shouldn't take me long,'_ he thought as he walked down the narrow way.

His eyes glazed by multiple wanted posters that surely haven't been there before, and, curious, he halted his footsteps and backed up.

His eyes read, _'Wanted Pirate Rewards'_. He scoffed. Pirates, the lowest criminals there are. Alfred can't stand them, as they are unjust, and Alfred loves justice. So naturally, anyone going against the law is his enemy. He's heard many stories from travelers, about the most dangerous pirates in the world.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, Arthur Kirkland, and Francis Bonnefoy.

"You can always tell how dangerous a pirate is by the rewards on his head," he recalled an old sailor telling him.

It couldn't hurt to look.

He snatched one of them off the wall and looked at the portrait drawn on the crusty brown paper. The man in the picture had wavy hair with a devious smile on his face, dressed elegantly it seemed, and in fact, he almost looked like a woman. _'How is this guy a wanted criminal?'_ He looked at the price for Pirate Bonnefoy's head, "Low millions." Disregarding it, he grabbed another crisp paper, and saw a rough looking man who seemed to be laughing at him, along with a man in the background with slick back hair, expressing his disgust. "He's got that right," Alfred muttered. He looked down at the price on Pirate Beilschmidt's head and tore the paper in two. Holy crap, this guy was worth _billions_! ...After recovering from his initial shock, he let the ripped papers fly into the wind and takes another poster from the wall. It's another man with short hair, but he's got an eye patch and deadly smirk on his face, but that is forgotten when Alfred took a peek at the man's eyebrows that stood out. Alfred sniggered a little, "Pirate Kirkland… How can anyone's eyebrows be so huge? …Maybe the artist made a mistake." He looked at how much he was worth, which was well more than the woman's, but lower than the laughing man. Shrugging, Alfred released the paper and let it float to the floor. "Hmm. Oh, yeah, I should get to the pub. Jackson is waiting for me."

* * *

The pub was brimming with life, as it always was. Sounds of talk and laughter bounced off the wooden walls, submerging it in an exciting but comforting atmosphere. Jackson, a young man of the same age group as Alfred, drank his ale while he glared at his friend. "Alfred, come on! Just relax! Haven't you been working your ass off all day? I came here to drink with you, not watch you work."

Alfred had a familiar grin on his face, the goofy smile he always put out. "Sorry, I saw Sally having trouble with the barrels and I couldn't resist!" He playfully rolled the barrel to the other end of the bar.

His friend slipped from his drink. "It's not like she actually asked you for help. Have you ever heard of 'minding your own business'? Because, you know, you should try that sometime Alfred. I'm just saying."

Alfred shrugged, his expression unchanging, "Yeah, that'll be the day when I'll be able to read the atmosphere." Suddenly, a finger tapped his shoulder lightly and when Alfred turned around, it was Sally. She thanked him (although she didn't ask for the help) and sent him away him from behind the counter. Satisfied, he walked over to Jackson and sat down on one of the wooden chairs and, finally, talked to him.

But their chat didn't last long, as Jackson spotted soldiers at the front counter. They, without trouble this time, escorted Alfred out of the pub and into his home, where he is lectured again.

"How many times do I have to tell you!" was Alfred's greeting. "Alfred, son, it's dangerous out there for a son of a governor. You do know people, disgusting people, kidnap wealthy children like you for ransom? I'm looking out for your safety." Yeah right, Alfred thinks, as he rolled his eyes. "They can kidnap you, and they can ask for all of my precious things I would not dare give up! Many of it is passed down for generations and I'll be damned if I have to give it up because you got yourself kidnapped! Like this statue for instance, this was your grandfather's…"

And at that moment, Alfred couldn't take it anymore and decided to walk away from his father during mid speech (it wouldn't be the first time) and put himself to bed.

In the dark, he lay on his comfortable mattress and stared listlessly out the window, at the black sky, blanketed by clouds, yearning for another life. Yearning for a life where he doesn't represent his father, where he has nothing to do with politics, where he can just do whatever he wants, whenever he wanted. Like going on an adventure, digging for lost gold… But he knew that such a life is not possible, not in the world he lives in. "This sucks." He sighed loudly and turned on his bed, looking forward to a night's rest.

* * *

Not too far off the coast, among the vast murky black waters of the ocean, laid a large narrow ship. Within, there was a group of men surrounding a lone wooden table in the middle of the cabin, around a single candlelight. On the table lay a paper that mapped the western world. They whispered harshly among each other as they waited in anticipation, grinning and sneering like hyenas.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door busts open with a kick, and an overbearing man donned in a red coat walked over to the table. With each step, his heavy boots echoed, and the gold accessories he wore clattered and jingled throughout the cabin. He stopped at the table and looked blankly at the map.

The man next to him, his first mate, pointed to a location nearest to them. "Here," he said in a low voice but it sounded loud in the quiet, "This is where they took him. We're ready when you are."

The man donned in red smirked with a deadly intent.

* * *

The next night, Alfred was out of the house once again, disobeying his father's wishes and was eating with Jackson, as they planned to do the previous night. As usual, the pub is booming with life and brightness and joy, until everyone quieted down at an unfamiliar muted sound outside.

"Gunshots?" Jackson whispered as he turned to Alfred from the dark windows. "Do you think it's the marines?"

"I have no idea."

But the noises stopped. After being sure of themselves that it was nothing to worry about, the pub goes back to its usual activity until gunshots are heard again, but its closer, Alfred thought. The regulars whispered among each other in worry.

Abruptly, all at once, the door is kicked in, the windows are smashed, and the once calm pub is now a jumble of chaos. Women were screaming, men were yelling, tables were flipped and chairs were thrown, and guns were fired to the roof by…

"Pirates!" Alfred exclaimed and grabbed his chair and prepared to throw it, but Jackson yanked his arm harshly.

"What are you doing, Alfred? Come on, we gotta get out of here!" Jackson doesn't wait for Alfred's protest as he grabbed the chair and threw it at the window. He tugged Alfred out of the pub with him. When Alfred looked up, he saw that the town was in disarray. As far as his eyes could see, smoked raised from multiple buildings and everyone ran in the streets. He took a step, and felt something under his foot. It was a body, but Alfred couldn't tell if it was a pirate, or a soldier, or a civilian. But next to the person's hands lay a sword that gleamed in the moonlight that caught Alfred's eye. He reaches down to take it, but Jackson pulls on him. "We need to get out of here!" He runs for it, but when he noticed that Alfred wasn't running with him, he glanced back and called, "Alfred! Come on!"

Alfred looked back at him, "I won't run away!"

Jackson shook his head, and ran away.

Alfred, thrilled, grabbed the sword and charged into the chaos.

Alfred stopped running when he saw a solider fighting against one of the pirates, but he was having trouble. The wounded soldier fell when the pirate casted away his sword so effortlessly. He rose his arm up and Alfred found the perfect opportunity to interfere.

Right before the final blow is struck to the soldier, Alfred slid in and shielded the strike with his sword. Taken back, the pirate backed off and cocked his head at Alfred before sneering. "Goin' 'ead to 'ead with a pirate? You got some balls mate."

Alfred positioned his sword, even though he was sure it was the wrong way, it wouldn't be cool to suddenly change it up right, and said, "I'm not your mate you unjust filth!" and thrusted his sword forward, but the pirate evaded smoothly. With a grunt, Alfred quickly blocked the sweep of the pirate's blade that was aimed for his hip. He stepped back, provoking the pirate to rush in, and luckily, he took the bait. The pirate leaped him, his sword help up high and came down fast toward Alfred but Alfred would never feel the impact on his sword.

Another soldier appeared and managed to block the pirate's attack. "Alfred," he says to him, "Go home!"

"No way! I want to stay and fight!"

The soldier, never turned away from the pirate he's engaged with, tells him, "You never did listen to what others say, did you…? Just, _go home Alfred_!"  
"No!" And Alfred, just to spite the soldier, ran deeper into the chaotic town.

* * *

No longer in the wide open, Alfred hid behind trees, taking occasional glances for pirates and soldiers alike. But a scream is heard, and Alfred's head poked out from behind the tree, seeing a woman run toward him, and a pirate too not far behind. An idea to hold the sword out for the pirate to run into is quickly put out, knowing that that could possibly kill him. As much as he hated these guys, the idea of spilling blood wouldn't make him any better than they were. Looking around him in the patches of grass, he found an empty bottle of rum and decided it should be enough. He placed himself firmly behind a tree and waited until the woman ran by. Once she did, he quietly counted to three and held out the rum bottle.

For a moment, he wondered if he held it out too early or too late, but he felt the pirate run into the bottle, flip once, possibly twice, and pass out on the ground.

Alfred moved away from the tree to observe the body below him. "Wow, these guys aren't very smart, are they?"

He ran further into the turmoil, only to find two pirates and two soldiers sword fighting side by side. Although they look like they'll be alright, Alfred decided to help them anyway, even if they don't want it. When he arrives, the two soldiers, not taking their eyes off the enemy, told Alfred to go home. He pouted. "Come on, let me help!"

One of the solders grunted out, "You're the governor's son, Alfred, you need to go home and be safe!"

The next thing Alfred knew was that both soldiers were knocked out cold thanks to a couple of rum bottles smashed on their heads.

"What—" In his shock, Alfred arms were restrained behind his back by two broad arms and he dropped the rusty sword he brought with him. He was caught off guard.

A third pirate, whom Alfred didn't see at first, grabbed his chin and asked, "Are you the son of the gov, mate?" His breath stunk so much that Alfred's face contorted in disgust.

"Let me go!" was Alfred's answer.

The pirates holding Alfred smirks and talked behind him. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Let's take him to the captain; I'm sure he'll make great use of this."

It was a harsh, grueling walk back to the port, where Alfred has started from. On the pier, he glanced up at the pirate ship they were taking him to. It was a marine ship in a sense, only a bit more modified for battle. Two flags waved in the windy air; a Jolly Roger, and a United Kingdom. Alfred tried to resist boarding the ship by digging his feet into the ground, but the pirates were too big for him to handle. They dragged him onto the ship.

"Let me go already!" Alfred yelled, and struggled in their unmoving grasps. He wanted to run away. He wanted to run back to the town, that's for sure, but mostly because he couldn't stand the sight of his town being ransacked by a bunch of dirty criminals. But they made him watch from their ship. He heard pats on the backs and talks of celebration behind him and Alfred felt sickened. How could anyone celebrate? Why would anyone consider destruction an achievement?

Looking to the side, he saw crates and barrels and supplies being stacked onto the ship's deck. There's one he recognizes one from the pub. He tried to escape the holds of the pirates again, but it was no use. He didn't give up trying to escape; he just had no energy to fight, because he was hungry and tired. He wished the adrenaline from eariler would come back to him. He watched is town in turmoil still, and gathered little energy to try to shake the pirates loose again. "Let go of me!"

"Dammit, kid! Just stand still!"

Alfred struggles only harder until he is kicked on the back of his knee and made him kneel. He tries to get up but it's no use, the pirates firmly held him down. With nothing else he could do, he glared at any and every pirate who passed him up, who in turn paid him no mind.

There were two pirates who boarded the ship at the same time, one looked like every other pirate, but the other looked different, mostly because of his large build and peg leg. Other pirates welcome him on the ship cheerfully (Alfred rolled his eyes) and a different pirate, with hair slightly lighter than his own, called for the pirates to come back, as they got what they came for. Alfred tilted his head, confused. It was weird, he can almost see right through this pirate. He was just so… plain, and simple. There was nothing particularly interesting about him, despite him being a lowlife.

Alfred looked to see pirates gathering up onto the ship while fighting some of the soldiers off on the pier. He tried to get up but the pirates still didn't let down their guard. From behind him, he can hear the sails falling behind them as they prepare to sail off, and his heart dropped to the floor. Slowly, as he could hear cannons firing now, he realized that he was being kidnapped from his home, that we was sailing away from his home, on ship with a bunch of pirates.

Now a safe distance where cannons cannot reach, the crew celebrated, patting the peg-pirate's back. The slightly-invisible-pirate patted him on the shoulder and grabbed it firmly. With a genuine smile, he told him, "Welcome back."

The peg-pirate expressed his gratitude to him and the rest of the crew. "I can't believe the captain actually came back for me."

"The captain will never leave a mate of his behind!"

"Aye!"

"A good captain, he is."

Unexpectedly, the door is kicked open by a pair of heavy boots, and everything became still, save for the steps the man donned in red made. Alfred tried to see who this guy was but it was too dark to make out through the shadow casted by his feathered hat. However, he could see the smirk the man wore on his visage. "I see you're back," he said to peg-pirate, and Alfred is taken back at his heavy English accent.

Peg-pirate grinned an ugly toothless grin and promised a feast for his return, and the pirates cheered, while the man in red only nodded slightly. His expression changed, however, when his eye glanced over to Alfred. "Who is this," he asked, tone lowering.

One of the pirates spoke up. "I know you said no prisoner's this time, but this mate 'ere is the gov's son. We found him outside fightin' our men."

The man merely smirks.

Alfred started to get annoyed, "Yeah, and you know what? I'd keep fight too. I'm not afraid of you lowlifes. Ugh, let. Me. Go!" He struggled in the pirate's hold but stops when the man donned in red towered over his body.  
"Do you know who I am, lad?" he asked.

"I don't care who you are, you're all the same jackasses to me." Alfred can see the man's smirk grow only wider, and the all of pirates sniggered and laughed. He still tried to escape the pirate's clutches until the man who was once towering over him descended to Alfred's eye level and his smirk disappears.

Alfred was prepared to gather all of the saliva in his mouth to spit on the pirate's face, but he swallowed when he finally saw his features. One eye patch covered his eye; the other emerald green eye stared at him, a cold empty stare that seemed to make Alfred shiver. His mouth was in a grim line, and although he looked no older than himself, his presence had an authority of a commander, a _captain_. But one feature that stood out of everything.

His eyebrows. His incredibly thick eyebrows.

And Alfred's mouth slackened as his eyes widened in disbelief.

The man's smirk returned again but this time only deadlier. He cocked his head and cooed Alfred. "Oh? So you have heard of me."

Alfred couldn't gulp, even if he tried. His voice was lost and he babbled incoherent words until he remembered how to form a sentence. "Y-You're… the pirate with the seconded highest bounty on his head," He swallowed, remembering how deadly he looked in the wanted poster, remembering how much he was worth, "You're… _Pirate Kirkland_!"

* * *

**A/N**: this is my first hetalia fic and not only that i haven't written fic in a loonnng time so sorry if anything is awkwardly worded ;_;  
tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Captain Kirkland harshly grabbed Alfred's blond hair and forced him to look at his face. He was mere inches away from him and it sent slight chills through Alfred's spine. "You better keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you, lad," he said, with thick venom in his voice. He had let go and stood up, and before Alfred could feel relived of the pain, a heel dug into Alfred's upper back. Captain Kirkland leaned forward, reducing him to a mere step ladder. "And?" he turned to the crew, bored, "What do you want me to do with him?"

Another pirate spoke out, "Well Captain, I was thinkin' that we could use the brat for ransom."

The plain-looking-pirate from earlier agreed with a nod of his head. "The town is one of the wealthiest in the world, Captain. With him, we could rob the governor blind."

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" Alfred muttered from under Captain Kirkland's boot.

The captain only pushed down harder, ignoring the boy's grunts. With a thoughtful face, he rubbed his chin with his gloved fingers as he watched Alfred squirm underneath him like a desperate rodent. "Not a bad idea, Matthew. It's been a good while since I last kept anyone else on this ship." He looked up to his crew, "Take him to the prisoner's quarter. I'll deal with him later." The instant Captain Kirkland's boot left his back, Alfred thought it would be his chance to escape. But unfortunately, two pirates were on him instantly, securing his arms behind his back. Alfred kicked and yelled profanity and obscenities while he was being hauled into the cabin. The moment the entrance closed, Captain Kirkland groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Looks like we have a prat on board."

* * *

Inside the prisoner's quarter, Alfred was thrown into a tiny space that looked like a holding cell, iron bars and the like. His body hit the floor hard as the pirates slammed the barred door and secured it with a rusted lock, sneering at him. He recovered quickly and placed his hands on the iron bars. "Hey, let me out eyebrow pirates! I didn't do anything to you yet!"

One of the two pirates scowled at him but the other laughed haughtily, "'Yet'? Mate, I don't think you're gonna do anythin'."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred challenged, "Come closer and I'll show you what I can do." As he expected, the pirate, full of himself, took the bait and came close enough so that the bars were the only thing separating them. Alfred hated his expression and the ugly near-toothless smirk he gave him. Gathering as much saliva as he could, Alfred spat in his face.

Startled, the pirate jumped back before wiping the glob of spit off his reddened mug. "You rotten little—" Filled with rage, he fumbled with the keys and unlocked the holding cell's gate with the fullest intent of punching Alfred. His fist launched forward to the younger man, but Alfred smoothly dodged and hooked him with his strong right.

"Ha ha!" He chuckled loudly, hand on his hips with this chest out, seeing the pirate sprawled out on the floor.

The other pirate clicked his teeth while he drew out his sword_. 'Well,'_ Alfred thought as he gazed at the weapon and watched the blade gleam in the dim candlelight, _'I didn't expect this.' _He licked his lips and watched for any sudden moves the pirate would make when they made slow, creeping circles around each other. He knew that one mistake, a single misstep, can possibly cost him a stab or his life. The pirate's scowl became a deadly grin as he stalked closer to him. When Alfred's leg unexpectedly bumped into a lone chair, he looked down. Seeing his opponent distracted, the pirate went for the kill with a quick thrust of the sword. Alfred ducked, gripped the chair, and crashed it onto the pirate's head. He watched him fall unceremoniously to the ground.

Silence filled the quarters.

"Huh. Well, that was easy," he said out loud with slight surprise in his voice. He rubbed his hands together, proud of himself that he handled the situation without much difficulty, and headed for the exit. He didn't need to prolong his stay much further, he wanted to go back home. They aren't too far from shore; it's only been a few minutes since they departed. He could probably swim back! At least, he thought he could. Swimming in frosty Atlantic waters on a cool, breezy night…

"Yeah, I can make it." He reassured himself. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for more fighting. If they were all like those two pirates, he'll be back in town in no time. He reached the exit and yanked the door open.

Only to find a pistol aimed at his face.

Alfred stopped dead in his tracks, wide eyes stared at the weapon before he looked at the owner, who gave him the same cold, intimidating stare from before.

"Get back in the cell," and with a reloading click of the firearm, Captain Kirkland pressed it onto Alfred's face.

Alfred swallowed hard and, reluctantly, held his hands up slowly, turned around, and started walking back to the cell. Captain Kirkland, much to his dismay, trailed right behind him. He felt the pistol being dug into his back almost painfully all the way there. As much as he wanted to, there was nothing he can do. No matter how he looked at the situation, the bastard pirate had the upper hand. Now he was fully inside the holding cell, facing the wall. He expected the captain to leave and shut the barred doors behind him but he instead barked his orders.

"Turn around."

Alfred sighed and did so slowly. Once he was fully facing him, Captain Kirkland kneed him in the gut, taking the wind out of him. He fell onto the ground, his arms wrapped around his stomach. Coughing, Alfred opened his mouth to give him a smart tongue, but the pistol was inserted into his mouth. He froze immediately when he tasted steel and gunpowder.

"You will behave on my ship, _landlubber_," Captain Kirkland growled with malice, and his emerald eye bore unto Alfred's ceruleans. "I may want you alive for now, but that doesn't mean I won't hesitate to get rid of a limb or two, got it."

The boy below him tried to uphold defiance and didn't think about wavering under the captain's petrifying gaze. But he knew better than to make any movements that won't help him in his favor. He was going against the second most dangerous pirate in the _world_ right now. When he said it, he meant it. Besides, he had a gun in his mouth; he couldn't talk if he wanted to.

Captain Kirkland slowly slid the pistol out of Alfred's mouth (Alfred didn't know he stopped breathing until he gasped for air) and placed shackles on his wrists. He backed out of the holding cell and crashed it against the frame, locked it, and threw the keys onto a pirate who was slowly regaining consciousness.

"Nnrgh, s-sorry Captain, we were caught off guard."

"...Don't let it happen again," he merely said, and walked out of the quarters.

Alfred watched the two pirates help each other off the floor and glare at him. He stuck out his tongue childishly.

Filled with rage once more, the same pirate who unlocked the door previously was about to unlock it again, but the other stopped him and dragged him out the quarters.

When the door closed, Alfred leaned on the wall and sighed heavily, glancing at the chains wrapped around his wrists. He pulled on them, hearing the metal clang against each other. "I'm in trouble…" He remembered his father telling him, just yesterday, that he could be kidnapped and held hostage. "Well, you were right." Though, it was strangely specific, he mentally added. He also recalled his father saying that he won't give away his possessions, in which he won't give into demands because he got himself taken hostage. He hoped it was a lie.

With another heavy sigh, Alfred looked around his surroundings. Chilly, dry, dark, save for the few candles that lit the area… and the smell was stale as well. It was the very opposite he was used to. He would much rather be in the comfort of his home, in his bed, wrapped in blankets...

Not even a day passed and he missed his home already.

He gazed inside the cell, and realized there was no bed inside. The young man laid down onto the tough wooden floor, worn out and starving. He curled into himself. He very much wanted to hug himself for some heat, but the chains around his arms prevented him doing so. He sniffed and closed his eyes. How could anyone, pirate or not, have a peaceful slumber under these conditions? There's no way he'll be able to sleep, absolutely none.

He dozed off.

* * *

Alfred felt an unyielding hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Wake up," the voice calmly said.

Alfred groaned and turned away, pretending he was still asleep. It was way too early to get up anyway.

"Wake up, Jones."

The person is persistent, he thought as he clicked his teeth in annoyance and moved the person's shoulder away. He wanted to stretch, to rid of the ungodly crick in his neck and back from the uncomfortable sleep, but when he felt that his wrists are bounded and sore, he gradually opened his eyes.

His situation slowly came back to him.

He shot up and stared at the man, at least, he wanted to, but he was still in the strands of sleep and wakefulness. He slowly realized that the entrance was open, and inside with him holding a string of thick rope, was the plain-looking pirate. Alfred sleepily stared at the rope and followed its trail… and it lead to him. He wiggled his arms and found out that he was secured in rope now. He sniffed, "Damn pirates." He struggled weakly before he asked, "Hey, do you guys have anything to eat? I'm starving."

Much to his surprise, the plain-looking-pirate answered, "You'll eat something after this… probably."

Alfred perked up, all drowsiness gone. "Really? Wait, what am I eating? Bread? Because I want some real food, like fish or something."

The plain-looking-pirate didn't answer that time. Instead, he stood up and pulled on the rope and forced Alfred to stand up with him. The two made their way out the prisoner's quarter.

Alfred thought to resist, but it was hard enough to _walk_ on an empty stomach. The guy said he'll eat food soon, so, he decided, after they feed him, he'll beat them up. If it's really good food, he'll beat them up softly.

They strolled up the stairs and the moment plain-looking-pirate opened the door, the sunlight shone at Alfred's eyes. It was way too bright, and with arms and hands restricted at his sides, he could only close his eyes and look away. Since when did he have to look away from the weather he loved? For a moment he wondered if piracy was contagious.

He made one final step onto the deck of the ship and the moment he does, he was ruthlessly pushed to the floor on his knees, and a boot stomped on his back just like the night before. He had an idea as to who it was who used him like a mat.

Captain Kirkland crossed his arms and said in a monotone voice, "Here he is." Alfred heard the slight cockiness behind his thick accent.

"A-Alfred!" a voiced exclaimed not too far from him and he struggled to look up. It was a solider (more like a guardian really) from town, and he usually saw him around the mansion a few times while sneaking out the house. Alfred took a moment to remember his name as it was on the very tip of his tongue.

"John!"

Captain Kirkland pressed more weight unto Alfred, silencing him, before speaking, "Alright, you see we have the boy, and you have our written document that lists our demands, aye?"

John nodded fiercely.

"Good." Captain Kirkland lifted his boot off of Alfred back (other pirates are on him the very instant he does) and stalked over to the shaking solider, who backed up to the edge of the ship.

John's feet were perched precariously over the rim, and he looked down to see the murky blue ocean waving underneath him. He returned his attention back to the captain of the ship, who stood firmly in front of him with the same smirk he always wore on his face.

"You can swim, can't you, John?"

He paused before answering. "Y-Yes sir—"

Satisfied with the first few words of his sentence, the captain kicked him off the ship with a boot to the gut, and watched him plunge into the ocean. "Give that letter to the gov, landlubber!" he shouted after him as John resurfaced from the water and swam back to the town. While he laughed victoriously with his crew mates on the deck, he turned back to face Alfred, who gave him a disgusted glower of his own. The captain scoffed. "Take him back down, Matthew. There's no need for him right now."

"Aye, Captain."

With the sharp tug of the rope, Alfred was brought back to the prisoner's quarters, placed once again inside his cell. He was now rope-free, but his wrists were still bound. Sighing heavily, he saw the plain-pirate sitting on the chair, watching him. His stomach growled loudly, which drew the pirate's attention. "Hey man, do you have anything to eat? Can I eat now? I want to beat you guys up but I have no energy."

The other man frowned. "I have a name you know, it's Matthew. And, well, I would have given you food but," he shrugged, "since you told me that…"

Alfred perked up. "Okay okay wait! I'll obey… until I get my food. Then, when I'm done eating, I'll beat you guys up. How about that?"

Matthew gave him a look. "No. Besides, you'll get your meal soon, so stop being impatient, eh?"

"How late is soon? I'm _starving_!"

"You'll eat when the captain wants you to eat."

"What?" Alfred whined, "But he's an asshole! Have you _seen_ the way he looks at me? That's not the look of 'I am going to feed you'."

Matthew merely shrugged yet again, "Well, he won't let you starve."

"Too late. I'm starving _right_ _now_!"

"When's the last time you had a meal?"

"Yesterday night, before, you know, you criminals needlessly raided my town and all."

He crossed his arms, giving Alfred a dull look. "…You make it sound like you haven't had a proper meal since yesterday breakfast."

"I might as well haven't, by the way you guys are starving me," he muttered. His stomach growled loudly once again, breaking the short-lived silence. "Christ, just feed me already you low life—"

At that moment, Captain Kirkland entered the room, banging the door open with his boot. Alfred wondered how the doors on this ship could even stay intact with how many times Captain Kirkland made his dramatic entrance. The captain ambled over to him, taking long strides, until he reached the holding cell. He opened his mouth to speak, but Alfred interrupted him.

"Hey! I'm hungry! Give me something to eat, jerk."

After swallowing an insult and a threat, Captain Kirkland opened his mouth to speak but once more he was interrupted by Alfred.

"So what did you do to John while I was asleep? By the way he shook, you guys probably breathed into his face."

The captain clenched his hands as his thick eyebrow throbbed in irritation. He opened his mouth.

"How long am I going to stay in here anyway! And I need to stretch my arms—"

Captain Kirkland leaped at the barred door, grabbed it harshly and caused it to rattle noisily. Alfred stopped in midsentence as he flinched. The captain's face was contorted in annoyance and frustration. "One. Bloody. Question. At. A time," he snarled.

Alfred, however, was more distracted by the bright red apple in the captain's grasp than to be intimidated. But for once, he decided to put the thought of food in the back of his mind for now. There were more important things to think about. "The document," he said, unwavering, "What was written in the document?"

The man before him took a deep breath before answering, half expected Alfred to disrupt pointlessly again. "It's our demands for your release."

They really were holding him for ransom. Just great. If there's one good outcome about it, is that they won't kill him. Yet. Now the problem, besides being kidnapped, is the price his father might be willing to pay. "…How much?"

"Everything."

Alfred's eyes flickered. "E-Everything?"

"Everything," he said, and he smirked. "I want his money, his doubloons, and his most valued treasures. I want everything he holds dear, for," he pointed to his prisoner, "your life."

"M-My… my life?"

"Aye, that's right, lad." He juggled the apple in his hands, the smirk never leaving his face. "If he doesn't pay in four months, I am going to kill you."

Alfred's eyes widened as he stared at Captain Kirkland, who seemed pleased at his expression. Just to spite the pirate, he quickly feigned the expression of defiance, but doom and gloom loomed over his head. He wanted everything his father owns; he wanted things this father will never give up. But he has four months to make his decision. Four months. "Wait… four months? What are you going to do with me for four months?"

"During these four months, you're going to sail the seas with me and my crew." He threw the apple up and down repeatedly. "There are places, islands, dungeons, with treasure guarded by booby traps and obstacles, and I don't want any of my mates to get hurt too badly. And this is where you come in, my dear boy." He stopped playing one-handed catch with the apple to sneer at Alfred. "You are going to be the rat that tests out traps and the like. I won't let you die, mind you. Though, you might lose a body part or two in the process. I cannot guarantee your safety."

Alfred, shocked, glanced downwards and froze as he took it all in. He heard the captain laugh haughtily as he threw the apple into the cell. It rolled slowly to his foot, and stopped with a small bump.

He was going to be around pirates for four long, grueling months. He'll be around the monsters he despises.

He was going to be forced to partake in illegal activities.

He was going to be forced to do the very things he hated.

And suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.

* * *

**A/N**: so much positive responses! thank you guys!  
i had forgot to mention that this is a fill from the kink meme on livejournal. i already outlined the entire story so don't worry about me not finishing it ^^  
if you see any errors please let me now! i want to make this a really good story and i need your guy's help. also, since this is my first hetalia story, tell me if the characters are _way_ too OOC (okok)  
alternatively, if anyone wants to be my beta, PM me! i'm not a very good alpha reader. my eyes really likes to skim over errors lmfao

i want to apologize for the modern speak. i think it's better this way instead of me trying and failing hard at pirate talk and whatnot ;;

review please ;_;


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred paced.

Back and forth he went in the little space the prison allowed. His mind raced, a million thoughts and possibilities filled his brain.

He was stuck with pirates; that was a fact he had to accept. The most painful part of it, he thought, was that he was stuck with them for _four months_. Why four? Why not just a few days, or just several hours? Obviously, there was something behind Captain Kirkland's intentions, other than wanting valued possessions and treasures. But what was it? He knew the other reason; he was to test out traps and obstacles so the captain's crew won't get hurt 'too badly". But there was something else, he knew there was. Alfred slapped his head once, twice, three times, rattling his brain and it gave him a short-lived headache.

He stopped pacing as he came onto a revelation.

If he spent time with the pirates… they would eventually rub off on him… and he could become just like them!

That was it, wasn't it? He would return home (if his father gave into demands) but he wouldn't be the same person anymore. He'd be the lowest of the low, and leave unjust terror in his path! He might even lose a limb!

He shuddered at the thought of walking around with a peg leg or a hook hand.

He started to pace again, wondering how to get away, if he could. They were in a ship in the middle of the ocean sailing to, well, God knows where. Even if he could escape somehow, where would he run? He had no pieces, no reales, or any gold on him, so he couldn't just purchase a boat and sail back home. Not to mention the pirate scum that cruised around the seas, sinking other ships and taking (or killing) hostages.

He tugged at his hair in irritation. No matter how he looked at the situation, nothing could work.

He felt something gripped in his hand, and it wasn't just his hair. He glanced at it, and it held the now eaten fruit the captain threw at him a while ago. They had starved him before, so he tried to eat as much of the apple as he could without eating the seeds. Unsurprisingly, he was still hungry.

He gave up on thinking for now, as the thought of hunger crawled back into his mind again. Alfred looked outside of his cramped room and found that he was alone.

"That's odd," he thought out loud. "I thought I saw… that guy…"

"It's Matthew."

Alfred almost jumped out of his skin when he finally noticed Matthew sitting on a chair, smiling politely with the slightest tinge of annoyance lingering on his face.

"Oh yeah! Hey Mattie, it would be great if you could get me some more food. Maybe some bread, or fish… You can't expect someone like me to get full off of fruit, do you?"

Matthew almost fell off his chair, not having heard the latter part of the sentence. "M-Mattie?"

"Yeah."

"You… say it so casually. Are you really going to give one of your captors nicknames? I mean, given the situation…"

Alfred shrugged. "You expect me to be intimidated by you? I'm sorry Mattie, but you're the least terrifying person on the ship. I can barely see you as it is." He ignored the slight twitch in the other man's eyebrow. "Which makes me wonder, why are you here?"

Matthew regained his composure, and was amazed at how the American often changed subjects. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I mean, you don't look like a pirate, scruffy looking, dirty, not fading into the background..." There was another twitch in Matthew's brow that again Alfred decided to not notice. "You look like a regular person; a guy I would only see once in town or something. I mean, did you want to be a pirate yourself? Did the captain guy kidnap you or something?" He also looked familiar, he mentally added but decided not to say.

Matthew looked away as he suddenly became fascinated with the floor below him. "It's kind of complicated..."

"Tell me anyway."

"It's a long story…"

"Does it look like I have anything else to do?" The other man said nothing. "Oh come on! There's got to be some tales you want to tell right?" Well, he didn't care much about the guy anyway, so he let it go. But he was so _bored_ of thinking to himself and pacing around small space and, hell, just the quietness of being down there; he had to make conversation or _something_. "Um, hey, did you meet the other pirates? You know, the ones with the highest bounty on their heads?" He might have hated pirates, but he couldn't pass up a good adventure story if there was one.

Glad at the change of subject, Matthew replied, "We have a few times. Actually, all of the captains know each other."

Alfred sat down on the hard floor, fascinated. "Really? Well, that explains a lot. Are they best friends or something? Comrades? Are they working together to conquer the seas and ruin lives?"

"O-One question at a time, Alfred." He would have to get used to Alfred's excessive speaking. "They are not working together, and they are not friends." He paused. "Well, actually, the captain isn't friends with _them_."

"Why?"

"Captain doesn't really speak about the past much… but from what I know, they all knew each other when they were younger… and I guess… he just doesn't like them. Captain Bonneyfoy and Beilschmidt are… friends, in a sense. They were in a trio, actually. The '_Bad Friends Trio_'. Have you heard of it?"

He shook his head. "The… 'Bad Friends Trio'? That sounds kind of…" He trailed off. "But, um, no, I haven't really heard of them."

"Well, the trio had competitions like who could find the hidden treasure first, who could capture the most ships, who could drink the most rum before passing out, things like that." He heard Alfred huff a breath of disapproval. "But Captain doesn't talk much about them either so there's not much I can tell you. There was however a reason why they were called the "_Bad Touch Trio_" but I won't get into that.

"Oh, but Captain Kirkland wasn't a part of the trio," he added rapidly, "There was another pirate who used to be one of the most feared in the seven seas, a _conquistador_ named Antonio, he was in the trio along with them. Captain told me that he was too laid back for his own good, even letting his crew call him by his _first name_ he would say, which led him to his downfall. He was too trusting. Captain stripped his title away underhandedly and took his spot. I was too young then to remember so I don't know the details... We don't see Antonio much these days, but if you ever saw him, you wouldn't think he was a conquistador at all."

Matthew expected Alfred would be bored of the information and would go back to playing with his shackles or pace around the cell again, but instead he saw Alfred enthralled. He was fairly shocked, as he noticed how vague everything was. He wished Captain Kirkland talked about the past other than giving him silence or sharp looks that could make the toughest pirate scurry away with their tail between their legs. He shivered.

"Hmm. So that Gilbert guy, what's he like?" Alfred asked, interrupting Matthew's thoughts.

Matthew put a thoughtful finger on his chin and closed his eyes. "Gilbert… well, he's someone you wouldn't want to cross. He's really, really, full of himself and annoying. He does nothing but fight whoever he wants, whether it be a civilian or a pirate or a navy officer; that's why he's at the top of the wanted list. He just goes around sinking ships and killing people, and has little to no interest in treasure." A beat. "Well, he says that only because he hasn't successfully recovered _any_ buried treasure. He doesn't succeed at anything else but killing. If it wasn't for that, I'm sure no one would bat an eyelid at him.

"Anyway, he travels with a fleet of captured ships, and his crews are people he decided to let live and forced them to work under him. As you expected, not even his own crew take to him much."

"Well, yeah, he sounds like a jerk."

"If you were captured by Captain Beilschmidt, you'd probably be dead by now, eh?"

Alfred scoffed, "You make it sound like I should be grateful for being captured in the first place. Anyway, what about, Francis? What's he like?"

"He's—"

"Matthew."

Two heads turned to source of the sound and saw Captain Kirkland by the door, with a blank expression. Alfred was slightly surprised. Not because of his sudden entrance, but because he didn't burst the door open with his boot.

"You're needed on deck, sailor," the captain said, gesturing to the ceiling.

"A-Aye, Captain." Matthew stood up to leave, but not before muttering an apology to the American. "Sorry, I'll tell you later." He jogged out the quarters, leaving Alfred alone with Captain Kirkland.

The two stared at each other noiselessly. Don't blink, thought Alfred, don't blink don't blink don't blink don't blink — His mantra stopped when he noticed something in the captain's hand as he walked toward him with leisure strides.

It was an apple.

"Oh come on! Another apple?" He whined, "I know you have food on this ship. Why can't you just give me real food? Or at least a different fruit!"

Captain Kirkland threw the apple into the cell, and watched it fall with little ceremony next to Alfred. "Would you rather starve?"

"No—"

"Then you better eat what I give you."

If it was anyone else, they would have accepted that answer without another word. They would also be grateful that their captor gave them food in the first place. Unfortunately, Alfred F. Jones was not someone else. He continued to whine, "Come _ooonnn_ Arthur, can't you be nice for once? It… wouldn't… hurt... Hey, are you okay? Haha, your face looks weird! Do you have to go to the toilet?"

Kirkland's face was suddenly screwed and livid, his thick eyebrows were knit together and his teeth were barred like a wild animal. He clenched his fists hard enough it threatened to draw blood. With emphasis on every word, he growled, "_What did you call me?"_

That was the most expression Alfred had seen on the captain's face. He cocked an eyebrow. "Huh? 'What did I'… oh, _Arthur_? That's your name isn't it?"

"It's _Captain Kirkland_ to you."

"Why? You're not _my_ captain."

"You're on _my_ ship."

"And? I'm not going to call you 'Captain Kirkland' just because I'm on your ship, that doesn't make sense. I am going to call you Arthur because that's your name."

The pirate cringed at the sound of his name and he grabbed the bars ruthlessly. The boy was lucky he didn't have the keys to the lock; he would have invited himself in and cut his whole tongue off. "No one calls me Arthur. _No one_."

"Except me."

He bit his lip as he looked at Alfred with a piercing glare and suddenly sneered. "Do you want to get stabbed, boy?"

But Alfred rolled his eyes at the threat. "Well geez, if you don't like 'Arthur' that much, I can call you something else! Hmm… how about… Artie?"

The captain sputtered. "N-No!"

"Okay…" Alfred thought. What could be a good nickname for him? Well, from his endearing accent and short-temper, he's definitely English. "Iggy?"

"'Iggy'?"

"No? Man, you're picky." He shrugged, "Then I'll have to call you _Arthur_."

"It's _Captain Kirkland_, you wanker!"

"_Arthur_, calm down, there's no need to get so upset over a name, hahaha!" Now he was just provoking him. And it was working. The captain was incredibly red in the face, from embarrassment and anger, but mostly from anger. Alfred enjoyed the sight. He smugly picked up the apple from the floor and bit into it. He felt that irritating the pirate up to a boiling point was an accomplishment.

Kirkland suddenly had a look of realization on his face, anger gone but still red in the face. "Oh for God's sake, why in the hell am I arguing with you?" He pulled out his cutlass from underneath his great coat, sharp metal shrieking against its sheath, and pointed at his prisoner. "Now, let's try this again. _Captain Kirkland_."

Alfred stood and backed up to the wall behind him, which wasn't very far. At this distance, the sword could still give him a deep wound. He swallowed. Too bad he was quite stubborn. "Yeah, like you would stab me. You need me alive, remember?"

A deadly grin ghosted his lips. "Ah, but do you recall when I told you that I would not hesitate to get rid of limbs? You can still live without them."

Oh, right. "Well, you can't really cut off any of my limbs from the other side of the bars, now can you?"

"I'll stab you until something comes off."

"I'd like to see you try," where not the words he meant to say, and regretted it the instant he saw a glint of excitement in the pirate's eye. This was too extreme… all of this because he didn't call Arthur 'Captain Kirkland'!

He pressed against the wall as hard as he could. There was nowhere to run. He trembled slightly and his heart pounded loud in his ears but his face was that of determination. He was scared but he wouldn't admit it, nor would he show it.

"You won't have that look on your face for long, lad." And he held up the cutlass, positioning it to his prisoner's upper limb. "Let's see how you would look without an arm." He plunged the razor-sharp weapon forward while Alfred closed his eyes and braced himself—

"Captain!"

Alfred, not feeling any excruciating pain, slowly opened an eye. He looked to the side to see the captain's sword stopped a hair's length away from his arm. Now with both eyes opened, he glanced up to see nothing— oh, Matthew at the entrance.

Matthew cleared his throat. "Um… We're almost to the island."

After a short silence, Captain Kirkland clicked his teeth and sheathed his blade away. "…Alright, let's meet in the main cabin." He gestured to Alfred. "Bring him too. He needs to know what traps he's up against." Without looking at neither of them, he stomped out of the quarters.

When the door closed, Alfred loudly blew out the air he held.

Matthew frowned slightly. "Are you okay?"

"My God! He was seriously going to hurt me! Oh man, you saved me, Mattie!"

The other boy sighed heavily. "Try not to provoke the captain, will you Alfred?" He strolled over to a corner and picked up thick ropes. "He doesn't need much provoking, anyway. What did you say to him? He looked awfully red…" Almost as red when Francis would tease him to no end, he thought.

"I know right? You should have seen the look on his face when I called him Arthur! Oh man, it was hilarious! That's something I would pay to see again." He laughed loudly, and Matthew resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Come on, I have to tie you up."

* * *

Captain Kirkland pointed his gloved finger on the paper map. "We'll land here," he tapped his finger before dragging it across the land to the large 'X'. "This is where the treasure is, which isn't too far from shore, so traveling the land shouldn't take more than a day."

The other pirates nodded their heads to show that they understood.

"Right. Now, I want one group to stay with the ship and take whatever food they can find, and do maintenance to the ship if needed. The other group comes with me."

There was a quiet murmur in the cabin, group of men trying to decide what to do until there was a mutual agreement. One pirate spoke up, "My group will stay with the ship, Captain."

He nodded curtly, "Good then. Prepare yourselves for tomorrow morning, you scurvy dogs!"

"Aye Captain!" And with that, the crew either disbanded or stayed in the cabin to talk among one another.

Without looking away from the map, Captain Kirkland reached out to the side of him and grabbed Alfred by the rope that held his arms down. He knew the boy wasn't looking at map just to be a rebel, so he held the back of his head and forced him to look down. His free hand pointed at the chart, at a small vertical gap. "There is—pay attention, you arse! – There is a long unstable bridge right here I need you to cross first. This is what stopped me from going further before. The fall isn't too bad. There is flat land below, and you'll most likely break a couple of bones. So, try not to fall."

"Yeah, okay, I'll try not to," Alfred said flatly.

"There are also the traps near the treasure, or so I've heard from the bloke who gave me the map. Poison darts, spears, pits of spikes, bombs, mines, poisonous snakes, scorpions… Or a pit with a combination of all of them." When Alfred stopped resisting, he had let go of his head and finally looked at him. He was pleased at the look; Alfred swallowed hard and turned slightly pale. "Those are some of the things you need to look out for. Hmph, not bad for your first run. You might come out unscathed if you're careful."

After he took a deep breath to calm down, Alfred rolled his eyes. "Thanks Arthur, I'll keep that in mind."

He watched as the pirate widened his eyes. His cheeks turned pink, then red, and then his face was contorted in fury.

He reached for his sword, only to be held back by Matthew once again, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Matthew held down his captain's arms. "Don't Captain! We're almost to the island! We can't have an injured man crossing the bridge!"

Alfred chirped up, "Yeah! I can't cross an unsteady bridge if I'm hurt you know."

Swallowing a death threat, Captain Kirkland roughly shrugged out of Matthews grasp and glared at Alfred, who looked boastful. Oh how he wanted to take his blade and just shave off that skin of his off his face. The only one who got to look cocky on his ship was him, not his _prisoner_.

Like a parent to a spoiled child, he silently grabbed Alfred's ear and pulled him out of the cabin with an aggravated look on his face.

"Ow ow ow ow! L-Let go!" Fearing that his ear would practically tear off, he tried to keep up with Arthur's steps all the way back to the prison quarters, where he threw him in and shut the iron bars. "Geez, what was that for!" He rubbed his ear delicately.

Arthur tried his best to not grab the sword, but it was getting harder and harder to _not_ hurt him in some way. A bullet to the head would shut him up. Blasting his jaw off would also do the trick. No, no. He had to leave. It was the best option. No talking, no threats, just walk out the room and go onto the deck where the dark blue ocean is and calm his mind—

"H-Hey! Aren't you going to at least take off the rope! A-Arthur! Where are you going? Arthur!"

Each time Alfred called his name, the captain only walked faster to the exit.

The door slammed with a resounding shut.

Alfred pouted, "What the hell…" He looked down at himself. Not only were his wrists in shackles, but now he's in wrapped in thick rope. As if sleep wasn't uncomfortable before…

Tomorrow, he was to go treasure hunting. He was all up for adventures, discovering buried riches and the like, but not when he would be the purposely put in danger so those scum could get to the treasure as soon as possible without the fear of injury or death. No, that was _his_ job! Well, they can wait on that, because the moment he gets off the ship, he's going to make a run for it.

* * *

**A/N**: sorry this took so long! i got distracted with some video games i brought. especially FF9. oh i love that game  
it'll be mentioned sometime in the story but for those who's wondering "why is canada always there," it's because he's the first mate. HOW he got there will be explained ~in due time~

i can't believe this website took off "! ?" i can't put it together. laammmeee

this story has 1000 hits! ! ! s-so little reviews BUT IT'S OKAY it's pretty understandable for this type of story. i love you guys anyway  
should i make my chapters shorter? or... longer...


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: okay i finally decided to update... almost a year later. i wasn't feeling this story but i felt bad because a lot of people liked it. so i'll do my best to finish it! even though it's a mess now that i look at it.  
understand that it's been a year, so sorry if the mood suddenly changed! also it's been a year since i've written anything other than essays so i'm a little sloppy

i'd like to take the time to thank my wonderful beta** ZemyxDexion**! without them this would be a mess tbh

* * *

Of course, escape would not be so easy. They still haven't bothered to cut the rope loose or take off the shackles on Alfred's wrist. It's been days since the last time he could move his arms around freely and they felt extremely stiff at his sides like wooden boards. He really wanted to stretch, even for a little bit, to crack his aching bones.

But as he expected, they wouldn't untie him.

With a shove, Alfred was pushed onto the deck of ship by a nameless pirate. He blinked his eyes rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Crisp afternoon air filled his senses, along with the sight of the clear azure sky. If anything good came out of his situation, it was getting out of the stifling prison to fill his lungs with fresh sea salt air. Through squinting eyes, he took in his surroundings and saw most, if not all, of the eyebrow pirates huddled around each other, conversing amongst one another and readying their weapons.

In mere hours they had reached the island where the supposed treasure was located. The ship was carefully docked near a pier that seemed to be unused for ages. Just outside the ship, Alfred saw the massive amounts of foliage and great rocky mountains as far as his eye could see. Needless to say, the island was bigger than he expected. It wasn't anything like he saw on the less than detailed map last night. But then again, he thought to himself, he wasn't much of a map reader.

The sound of heavy boots pounding the floor brought Alfred back to reality, and he was once again filled with dread. The moment Captain Kirkland stepped onto the deck, his crewmembers instantly quieted and gave their undivided attention to him.

His piercing green eye scanned them over and assessed them, all while his face was void of expression. After a brief moment of silence that seemed like an eternity to Alfred, Captain Kirkland nodded. "Alright ye' scurvy dogs, let's get started then. Jack's group with me; the rest of you gather as much provisions as you can. We need to last until we arrive at Port Royal. Got it?"

"Aye, Captain!" The pirates shouted in unison before dispersing.

Alfred vaguely wondered what a 'Port Royal' was before Captain Kirkland stared at him and said, "You're coming with me."

"Well, obviously," was his response as he rolled his eyes.

The captain quickly made a gesture to reach for his cutlass before Matthew appeared beside him (how does he _do_ that? Alfred wondered) and said hurriedly, "Just after we cross the bridge, Captain! Until then you have to—"

Not bothering listening to the rest of the sentence, the captain clicked his teeth and walked away without another glance at either of them. Matthew tugged harshly on the ropes that bounded Alfred's arms together and jostled him. "Didn't I tell you _not_ to provoke the Captain?"

"Wha—I didn't do anything! Arthur seriously has a short-temper!" Alfred said with disbelief in his voice.

The other boy groaned and pulled on the rope. "…It's about time we head on land."

Without much of a choice, Alfred followed him sluggishly to the narrow wooden plank. Below, he could see Captain Kirkland gazing at the forest while the small portion of the crew loitered around. Looking at the forest as he made his way down, it was even bigger than Alfred anticipated. The plant life towered over him like an unkempt overgrown garden belonging to a giant. Back home, the plants were not as nearly as big— they were carefully trimmed. He would have taken the time to take in the beautiful scenery if it weren't for the mess he was in.

Alfred thought he could make a run for it, right now, shackles and all. He could take out Matthew and maybe outrun the rest of those filthy bastards. However, he immediately noticed that the plan was not foolproof. If he managed to do that, where would he run to? There were possibly many places to hide, sure, but they would find him eventually. Or… what if they gave up on looking for him? How would he escape off the island if they left him? He was good as dead! Those pirates were his only way in _and_ out the island. In the end, he had no choice but to stick with them— he was forced to cooperate. Alfred sighed softly, dismissing the plan from his mind.

Matthew stated his arrival with the prisoner once they touched the aged dock, and Captain Kirkland looked at them from the corner of his eye.

"We're ready, Captain," Matthew announced, "I have the treasure map with me." He then pulled on the rope and Alfred lurched forward. After mumbling under his breath, the prisoner looked away and puffed his cheeks out like a spoiled child.

Wordlessly, Captain Kirkland strode into the forest, and the small group followed.

* * *

It was much too quiet for Alfred's liking as they made their way to the treasure within the lively forest. He huffed and puffed, and moaned and groaned. He started to drag his feet on the moist grass and dirt, and Matthew had to constantly lug him along. He constantly asked Matthew to slow down so he can check out the colorful bird that perched above them (he could never get a good look because the bird would fly away from Alfred's loud voice), or the lizard-like animal that slithered by, but the other young man kept on moving. For a treasure island, it wasn't eventful. Others would have found that relieving, but Alfred F. Jones wanted an adventure! Not a peaceful walk through the forest. He could have done that at home with less ropes and shackles.

He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in the twenty minutes they began to walk, and Matthew glanced at him with annoyance on his face as he kept walking.

"_What_?"

Alfred looked away, "Nothing."

"…It must be something. You've been sighing the whole time."

"Well, you would too if you're being held captive." He paused. "Man, I'm starving. Would you have to have anything on you, Mattie?"

"No," Matthew said, looking ahead. He chose to ignore the pet name.

"Can we stop and get some berries or something? Look, there's a bush right now!"

"No."

"What about this tree right here? There's some food up there, I think. It's pretty tall but I can climb it!"

"_No._"

"I'm going to starve to death at this rate!"

Alfred groaned once again, and one of the pirates who accompanied them clicked his teeth in irritation. "Would _someone_ shut this brat up already?"

Another pirate spoke up. "Mate, I've been wantin' to stab 'im since he got off da damn ship."

The rest of them agreed, and then gleefully occupied their time talking about the ways they would torture and kill their prisoner (they made sure Alfred was in earshot too). It was not a conversation Alfred wanted to listen to, so he did his best to ignore it by taking in fascination of the wildlife in the forest.

Thankfully, unfortunately, it was not long until they reached the bridge that Alfred was to walk across. The other side of the land looked distant from where he stood, but he would only gaze upon it for a short time.

The captain suddenly marched over to Alfred, yanked the ropes callously, and brought him to the edge of the cliff. He kicked the back of Alfred's knee and made him kneel to the ground, hard. A fistful of his golden hair was grabbed and his head was pressed down to the open gap of land.

Grunting at the pain, the young man reluctantly gazed at the area below him, and saw nothing but solid ground with a few boulders scattered in the area. It was a great distance from the cliff. It was not something he could easily recover from if he did manage to fall.

Captain Kirkland was squatted next to him. He was silent throughout whole trip, but now he venomously murmured two words to Alfred. His breath was hot in the other's ear, and he sneered as he whispered, "Don't fall." With that, he stood and took Alfred with him with the tug of his blond hair. He shoved him to his first mate. "Matthew."

"Aye, Captain." Matthew pulled out his sword from its sheath and quickly cut the ropes that held onto Alfred.

Too busy relentlessly glaring at Captain Kirkland, Alfred did not notice the ropes falling unceremoniously to the ground until Matthew took out a rusty key from one of his pockets and unlocked the shackles. "What—" Quickly, he rubbed his wrists that felt terribly raw and stretched his arms in what seemed like ages. He looked at Matthew, "What…?" He trailed off, beginning to massage his wrists again.

"You can't cross a bridge like that while being restrained, can you?"

"I guess…" He trailed off in thought, and realized he did not get a good look at the bridge itself because Captain Kirkland took the liberty of showing what would happen if he did manage to fall. Damn, he wanted to kick that pirate's ass. He put that thought behind him for now, and focused on the bridge.

Or at least, what was left of one.

The bridge was being held on by the thinnest of ropes that looked worn and shabby. Among that was the dirtied wood that served as a walkway, but they were so few in-between that looked like he had to hop his way to the other side. The overpass swayed ever so gently with just a calm breeze of the wind. It did not look sturdy at all, and it seemed just putting weight on it would make the bridge collapse onto the ground.

He was going to turn around, but the instant the thought popped into his head, he felt dull metal on his back. Much to Alfred's chagrin, Captain Kirkland trained a pistol on his back. "Don't even think about turning around," he said strongly.

"I wasn't going to!" Alfred lied.

The pirate dug his pistol onto Alfred back. "Walk." He paused before he added, "And don't bother thinking about running away. I'll shoot both of your legs."

"Don't worry, I already ran that scenario in my head and it wasn't a good idea," He deadpanned.

"Hmph, you're not as dim as you seem. Now, get moving," he said as he pressed the weapon further onto Alfred's back.

"I'm going, I'm going…" Alfred looked at the unsteady bridge before gulping loudly. He was not afraid of the height (in fact, he always dreamed of flying in the skies), but the fall… the fall would surely injure him, if not kill him instantly. It's going to be a lot more than just bruises and broken bones.

He breathed in deeply and exhaled loudly. He softly took hold of the thin ropes on both sides… and took his first step. And then another. The wood underneath his feet creaked with each movement and the walkway seemed to go lower with his weight. It was not easy to hold his body steady on the wavering bridge. Each time he had to hop onto the next plank of wood, the bridge violently rocked. He bit his lip in concentration, and threatened to draw blood whenever he felt like he was going to plummet to the ground.

Alfred looked up and saw he was already halfway across. He felt little relief but his heart continued to pulse loudly in his ears. It was just a few more steps to the other side before he felt something strange underneath his shoe. He paused and looked down at the plank. "This wood…" He pushed his foot in deeper and stopped immediately when he heard a faint snap. "It's… bending inward?"

"Oi!" Captain Kirkland shouted, "What in the blooming hell are you standing around for? You're not thinking about running away are you?"

Alfred cringed and mumbled darkly, "Didn't I just say I wasn't going to run away?" He glanced down again at the piece of wood and considered telling them, but he promptly decided against it. The thought of any of those pirates, mostly Arthur, _especially_ Arthur, falling from the bridge with sheer shock on his face gave Alfred great joy. He was laughing to himself before a bullet suddenly wheezed passed his ear. He jumped and the entire bridge shook dangerously, which only worsened the fast beating of his heart.

Alfred spun his head around to see the pirate captain promptly reloading his pistol. "W-What the hell!"

"Next time I won't miss. Keep walking."

Alfred bit his lip to prevent himself from shouting back at his kidnapper and returned to concentrating on getting to the other side, which was not very far. He As he gained confidence, he began to stride across the wooden panels more purposefully, but not too much to hop gleefully off the bridge and laugh all the way (as he did a few times in his youth, and the result was a broken arm; this would result to a broken body). Using his feet, he felt around carefully for any unsteady movements the wooden planks would make. It seemed that luck was on his side. With the last few steps, his feet touched ground. Alfred was happy to stand to steady land, to say the least.

Alfred wiped the sweat off his brow and sighed in relief, "Thank _God_." The feeling of adrenaline left his body and calmness washed over him. Well, _now_ is the time to feel cocky, he thought. He crossed that damned bridge and reached the other side alive and well, and only this fact could only piss off the pirates. Feeling entirely smug, he turned around to the other side of land, and flashed a thumbs-up and a natural radiating smile. His mood definitely went up when he saw that Captain Kirkland was taken back and became flustered and the pirates that accompanied him clicked their tongues angrily. There's nothing like pissing off your kidnapper.

There was also nothing like waiting for one of those bastard fall from the bridge. He was glad he didn't tell the eyebrow pirates about the unsteady wood that would surely break sooner or later. The young man sat close to the bridge and rested his head on his hand, carefully hiding away the excitement of what was going to take place. All he has to do and sit and wait. He was never good at waiting and hiding his emotions, but this time, he had to try. Hard.

Much to his disappointment, Captain Kirkland did not cross the bridge after him; it was one of the nameless pirates. The pirate started off slow, but quickly gained speed as he made it halfway across. When he was close to getting off, Alfred leaned in slightly to watch the pirate step on that curtain plank of wood. When he did…

Nothing happened.

The pirate kept making his way to the other side, and did not notice the difference from the other wooden planks. Alfred clicked his teeth and sighed noisily.

"An' wot are ye sighin' for, git?" The pirate asked him as he made it, safely, to Alfred's side.

Alfred looked away. "I was really hoping you would fall."

He ignored the pirate's retort as he quickly looked back to see Captain Kirkland make his way fairly quickly across the bridge, very quickly, faster than he and the pirate was. Alfred's attempt to be indifferent melted away, and he bit his bottom lip to suppress a smirk. Yes, he thought, yes! It has to break in when Arthur steps on it. The captain was wearing so much gold, so many accessories, and his great hat, coat, baggy pants, and heavy boots had to weigh a lot. Alfred could see it in his mind's eye; the look Arthur will get when falls through the bridge, the look when he lands and breaks his leg, the look when he lies on the floor, attempting to glare daggers at Alfred, and Alfred will be there to point and laugh and tell him he's gotten his just desserts, and justice will always be served. He opened his eyes—

Only to see Captain Kirkland stomping towards him, his too green eye glaring and his face contorted into a snarl. He grabbed Alfred by the shirt and scowled, "I am growing impatient with you, _you know that_?" He threw his prisoner on the ground and placed his foot on Alfred's chest. Much to Alfred's surprise and discomfort, it was not heavy enough to constrict his breathing, but it was still hard enough to cause him pain.

"Ow ow ow ow! Arthur, get off— _ow_!" But with the sound of his name, the pirate captain scowled even deeper and applied more pressure.

"I," Captain Kirkland began slowly, "Am going to cut off your fingers if you make that ridiculous gesture to me ever again. And _stop_ calling me that."

He grunted before he answered. "O-Okay, I won't, only because I kinda need my fingers… And I'm not going to call you anything else other than… your name." Alfred though to say 'Arthur', but thought better of it. Anymore pressure to his chest and he wouldn't be able to breathe. "We talked about this on your ship a couple of days ago!"

Even with a boot on his chest, Alfred still continued to talk, to defy him with that obnoxious voice of his, which irritated the captain even more. "I'm starting to wonder you're worth the treasure," Captain Kirkland grumbled as he lifted his foot off of Alfred's chest.

The young man sat up and massaged his chest, glaring at the pirate captain. "Well, you can always just take me back home if I'm too much for you to handle."

Captain Kirkland folded his arms as he watched his crew walking cautiously on the bridge, "Hmph, if I ever get tired of you, I would just kill you, lad. You're only breathing because I want that treasure. Other than that, you are of no use to me alive."

Alfred's retort was a silent one, as he only glared harder at the captain, who paid him no attention. Now in a sour mood, he resumed his position by the bridge, with his head being held up by his arm, watching the rest of the eyebrow pirates cross the bridge. Through his bickering with Arthur, all of them were on his side, wiping their dirt covered faces with their grimy sleeves and arms.

All of them, except one.

Matthew.

Alfred saw him, slowly and carefully crossing. Matthew bit his lip and held onto the thin ropes as if they were his lifeline. Maybe unlike the other pirates, Matthew was more careful, Alfred thought. Or maybe he was just simply afraid of slipping and falling, who knew. He watched as the young pirate looked down and carefully placed one foot in front of another.

Alfred was never the one for patience, and he wasn't going to start be patient now. He sighed and stared at Matthew with a bored look on his face. It seemed like minutes instead of seconds past when Matthew was now more than halfway across the bridge, and now only a few feet away from land. "You're so slow, Mattie! Hurry up! Just jump the rest or something!"

Matthew stopped and darkly mumbled something under his breath before looking up to the group ahead of him. But before he could get a sound out of his mouth…

A certain worn wooden plank underneath him collapsed.

Within the second, Alfred's heart jumped against his ribcage and his blues eyes widened. "Mattie!" Alfred shouted, unthinkingly leaping over to the bridge and caught Matthew's arm before it disappeared from his view. Matthew noiselessly dangled under the bridge, staring wide-eyed at ground far below him before he glanced at Alfred, panic written all over his features. "Are you okay? Actually, don't answer that," Alfred said, almost breathless as he smiled faintly. The smile faded quickly as a realization popped into his mind…

Alfred felt Captain Kirkland beside him, and the other man wordlessly reached his hand out for his crewmate. He turned and saw the pirate's features, and although it displayed indifference, there was the slightest bit of relief... At least, he thought it did (as reading faces was never his strong point). Matthew reached up for his captain with his other hand. Both Alfred and Captain Kirkland pulled him up and dragged him onto land. Once there, the captain had let go of Matthew's arm, and let him collapse on top of Alfred.

The nameless pirates crowded around Matthew and Alfred, all at once asking if Matthew was alright. Captain Kirkland stood aloof before he stalked closer, and at once the group ceased their chattering.

"Are you alright, Matthew?" He inquired, his tone flat as usual.

"Y-Yeah," Matthew responded, sitting up from Alfred's body with a tinge of red on his cheeks. "Thanks for saving me Captain, and," he turned to Alfred, "Thank you, too."

"Uh… sure, no problem," Alfred said distractedly as he also sat up.

There was a quick silence before Captain Kirkland sighed.

"…Alright, let's keep going. According to the map, the treasure isn't far from here." With that, he and the nameless pirates walked further into another dense forest, paying to mind to the two who were left on the ground, one staring at the other and the other staring at nothing.

"Alfred?" Matthew tilted his neck slightly. "Um… hey…"

"I," Alfred began when the other young man trailed off, "I just saved you, right?"

Matthew cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah… thanks."

Alfred shook his head as if he was in denial. "What the hell…?" He mumbled and frowned to himself. His head was reeling as he took it all in. He hated these guys. They were all lowlifes, they murder, steal processions and land, and they did not care about the consequences for others. No pirate was an exception for his hate, none of them. And if anything, being with this crew proved him right. And yet, he did something he never thought he would do in his entire lifetime.

He saved a pirate.

He was mad at himself. And he was so confused.

Alfred looked up at Matthew, who was also confused. He asked, "Why did I save you? I don't like you. You're a filthy pirate… but I went out of my way to save you…" He looked down at himself and these thoughts continued to roll around in his head. He saved a pirate, one of his kidnappers no less! He deserved to fall, no matter how soft spoken he was.

Maybe… maybe it was on impulse? Maybe the adrenaline gotten to him, and went to save Matthew before thinking about anything else. But even then, he could have realized what he was doing, as he did, and simply could have dropped Matthew. So why… So why didn't he?

The other man blinked his violet eyes, "Why? What kind of question…" he trailed off but began again, "Alfred, I know you're confused right now, and to tell you the truth, you're confusing me, but we need to catch up with the Captain and the others... Alfred…?"

Alfred sighed heavily, "Alright…" He decided to put those thoughts in the back of his head and lock them up in his own treasure chest for now. He stood and Matthew followed suit, walking through the trail Captain Kirkland walked through earlier.

* * *

The two boys caught up with their group, who paid them little mind, as they continued through the lively, cluttered forest. Alfred was lagging behind the group, strangely quiet for once, not sighing nor groaning. He kept his lips shut, and rubbed his chin in thought, paying no attention to his surroundings.

He saved one of his captures. Why? Could it be that he just wanted to, that there's just no reason? His father's words echoed in his head, '_there's always a reason for something'_. Yes, he would lecture Alfred about that whenever he caused trouble around the office when he was young. His father would ask, 'why did you do it,' and Alfred would answer, 'I dunno'. There was a reason, of course— there's always a reason for everything…

He rattled his head_, stop_ _thinking, stop thinking_, he would repeat in mantra mentally. As much as he wanted to stop thinking about it, the more he kept thinking about it. He hated thinking. He would much rather charge into a situation and think about it later… which happened a few moments ago and now he's in this situation, thinking about what he just did when he wasn't thinking and need to stop thinking about thinking—

Alfred abruptly bumped into a pirate's burly back and snapped out of his thoughts. He paid no mind to the pirate who was muttering colorful sailor words and walked out from behind the broad-shouldered man to see why they stopped. "What happened?" A certain smell crept up his nose and his face contorted into a grimace. "What is that smell? Ugh!"

"…Someone already activated all of the traps," Captain Kirkland muttered to himself, indirectly answering Alfred's question. He stared down at all of the traps; a tree log dangled on rope, usually hidden, was seen in plain sight (built by the land's natives no doubt), poison darts and spears were laid on the ground and the stench in the air… it smelled like corpses, although none were seen. These things were of little importance to him though; he only cared about the treasure that was not much further inside. "Shit, did someone get here before me?"

"Captain," Matthew exclaimed as he pointed ahead of him, "there's a treasure chest…!" And there was. A single aged chest was placed on an alter made on grimy stones, bathing in the sunlight like a lone light peaking though the clouds.

The captain smirked, "Heh, right you are." He spun on his heel to see Alfred pinching his nose to block the disgusting odor. He rolled his eye and grabbed his prisoner by the arm. "Go get the treasure chest and bring it back to me."

"Who else am I going to bring it back to?" Alfred spoke nasally.

The pirate captain ignored his comeback and roughly shoved him towards the lonely treasure chest. "Don't open it."

Alfred didn't respond as he walked up to the altar slowly, carefully treading his way there. The traps were activated, sure, but he didn't know if they _all_ were. He'll be damned if he's shot and killed with a single poison dart. It was a really unawesome way to leave the world—

He reached the treasure chest and stood in the single stream of light, glowering at the ancient, dirtied box. He would have to let go of his nose to carry this stupid thing. "It better be worth it," he said to himself and let go of his nose. The smell blasted through his noise, and seemed to reek worse than it did before. In a swift motion, he grabbed the chest (it was lighter, much lighter than it looked), and jogged back to the group. He placed it down in front of Captain Kirkland with a soft thud, and sighed briefly. "There."

The group of pirates surrounded the chest, their faces beaming with excitement and anticipation. Captain Kirkland however, was not. He glared suspiciously at the box before looking to Alfred. "…This box," he paused, "was it heavy?"

Alfred shook his head. "Nope. I expected a bunch gold to be a lot heavier than—"

No sooner than the words came out of his mouth, Captain Kirkland flipped open the box in a rage and froze when he gazed upon its contents. The other pirates stopped moving and gave each other knowing looks when they saw what was inside.

Alfred, confused, took a closer peak inside, to see a note and a beautiful red rose.

"Ah," Matthew gasped, "That's…"

Seeing as the pirate captain was not going to snap out of his shock, Alfred reached in and took the piece of parchment out of the chest. On it was very elegant, graceful handwriting written with the finest ink.

"Read it."

"Huh?" Alfred looked at Captain Kirkland, who continued to stare into the treasure chest that only contained the rose.

"Read. It," he repeated threateningly.

The young man raised an eyebrow before he sighed and read:

"_Angleterre,_

_So sorry I had to leave before you arrived. Do not worry; the treasure is safe with me. _

_But I am not such a cruel man to leave you with nothing. Take this, your favorite flower, as an apology._

_Je t'aime, _

_-Francis Bonnefoy"_

* * *

so to answer some questions, the pairings are:  
england x america  
england x france, spain, and prussia because he's a **slut**  
some america x canada is you squint really hard

and someone asked who old is america... well he's whatever age you want him to be.


End file.
